Pirates of the Caribbean 3: Calypso's Fury
by KnuxZimRyoko15
Summary: This is actually the working title of the third one. It's my own little silly shot at how I think it'll turn out.....And my first ever POTC fanfic. Be nice.
1. Chapter 1

Author note: This is my first ever Pirates of the Caribbean fanfic, and so I'm a little nervous. I JUST watched Dead Man's Chest three times in a row, so I thought I'd take a swing at what I thought the third one's gonna be like. Cliché I know, but oh well.

WARNING: This will probably not be a happy fic. IN ANY WAY. Oh, and there's spoilers for DMC, so…..read at own risk.

Any sailor worth his salt has heard the legend of Calypso, the beautiful goddess of the sea.

She created the ocean, and rules over it with a merciless hand and heart as cold and dark as the deepest grotto. All who sail upon her waters are at her mercy, and it is by her grace alone that saves them from being dashed upon the jagged edges of the deep. All sailors, every last one who calls the sea their home, both love and fear their terrible mistress.

Some love her more than other….

Davy Jones had been one such sailor, a great and terrible pirate who loved the ocean more than anything else, more than the company of any other woman. Seeing his desire for her, Calypso showed herself to Davy, and captured his heart for her own. So enchanted by her beauty and untamable nature, Davy Jones spent most of a decade following wherever she led him, and slowly she, too, learned to love him in return. She saw to it that his sails were always full, that the sea was always calm, and no ship that dared to take his ever survived the attack. Most precious of all, she allowed him the use of the monstrous Kracken, her terrible beast, to do his bidding….

She even bore him a son.

The son of the sea…

Davy's heart was overjoyed when he laid eyes on the child: raven hair, eyes so black you couldn't see your reflection in them, and the smell of the ocean already on him. He cherished the boy more than any treasure, and life, for a time, seemed to be nothing but happiness.

But the tide quickly changes on the face of the ocean…

One night, Davy Jones decided to raid an English port, and fearing for the boy, left him aboard his ship. While his crew was away, redcoats swarmed the boat and killed all who were aboard, save the boy who they took with them. He was far out to sea before Davy Jones even noticed he was gone, but Calypso had found out. Her fury was so great that all boats within 100 miles of her collapsed from the sheer velocity of her wind and waves. She rampaged across the sea till she overtook Jones, destroying his ship and marooning him on Isla Cruesez, with naught but a knife and his chest of love letters to her. Heartbroken, Jones swore that none others would claim his heart. Lifting his knife above his head, he swiftly carved open his chest and tore out his still-beating heart, wailing to the sea over his lost love. Calypso heard him, and suffered not that he would die, but become her slave, setting his heart into a chest and burying it along with his expressions of love. Doomed to sail forever, Davy Jones never forgot the love he once had, and the son that was lost.

But what happened to the boy?

Since she could not reclaim him until he joined her in the Land of the Dead, Calypso cursed all ships that bore him, making them sink and leaving the boy as the only survivor. After one such occasion, he washed upon the shores of an English settlement on the island of Hispanola, where he was discovered by a settler named Samuel Sparrow, a widow with no children of his own. He took the lad as his son…

…And named him Jack.

A/N: well, that's the prologue for you. It sucks, I know, but oh well! dances


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: well here I go again! Chapter two already! Dang, I love these movies. But then again, who DOESN'T love Johnny Depp as a drunken pirate?

Anyway…ENJOY THE SHOW!

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Red dawn, sailors take warning….

The day broke silently, gray clouds covering the sky, heralding in the oncoming storm. The wind, already picking up speed, blew into the Black Pearl's sails, causing them to flap wildly about. All crew on deck ran to secure them, but Elizabeth Swann stood perfectly still, leaning on the railing and looking out over the ocean. Something didn't feel right about this storm. Everyone could feel it, a sense of urgency growing, pushing them faster and faster towards their destination. Even Jack had been acting strange, and it bore ill for everyone aboard.

Sighing, she looked up at the captain, currently standing with back towards her, deep in thought. It had been his idea to go after the treasure of the Lost Island…what could be troubling him? Elizabeth walked carefully up towards him, passing Cotton at the mast. She laid a hand on his shoulder, and whispered, "Jack? What's wrong?"

He didn't look at her. He didn't move. "What's wrong? You KNOW what's wrong, Miss Swann…" Slowly he turned to her, and Elizabeth screamed. Instead of the handsome, rugged pirate, there stood a rotten, waterlogged corpse, mouth in a sneer.

"You killed me…."

With a yelp, Elizabeth found herself tumbling out of her bunk and onto the floor of the crew's quarters. Shakily, she rubbed her shoulders, desperately trying to get the images out of her mind. A dream…it had only been a dream…. third one this week, and they were getting more vivid. Ever since IT had happened, Elizabeth had not slept well, and it showed. Her spirits had been low, eyes sunken and hollow, and she no longer talked to anyone but Will. Elizabeth felt tears threatening to form, and she rubbed at her eyes furiously. The sound of footsteps jarred her from her thoughts, and she looked up. Will stood in the doorway, concern written on his face, "Elizabeth? Are you alright?" Without a word, she ran to him and hugged him tightly. Surprised, he merely stroked her hair gently and looked down at her. "Another bad dream?"

She nodded. "I—I can't get his face out of my mind…." She clung tighter to his jacket and cried, unashamed.

He smiled sadly. "You miss him terribly, don't you?" She nodded slightly, and looked up at him. Will caressed her cheek sadly, and then pulled away. "Then…it should have been me that stayed behind." He turned around, and walked back up to the deck. The slightest trace of sadness lingered on his words, and Elizabeth made a motion to follow him, then thought better of it and went back to her bunk, sighing. Everything had changed after that kiss…

Even herself…

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The pirate ship Revenge had been well known in the waters of the Caribbean as being a fast and merciless ship under the fist of the fearsome Blackbeard, before falling under the guns of the royal navy. How and where Tia Dalma had retrieved it didn't really matter to Will Turner as they sailed closer to the Land of the Dead. All that lay on the young pirate's mind was Elizabeth's lips on the now deceased Jack Sparrow. The pain that it had caused him had long since died out, and now the question of HOW Jack had met his demise had settled comfortably on his mind. There HAD to be a connection between his death and the kiss…

"Avast, Mr. Turner! Get yer head out of th' clouds and secure the rigging before I keel-haul you!"

And then, there was Barbossa.

There had been quite the uproar when he had tromped down the stairs of Tia Dalma's hut, as if he'd never died. Amid the surprised yells, shouted threats, and high-pitched monkey screeches, Tia Dalma had explained how she had brought him back, and why.

"It all bery simple," she had said, eyelids half-closed. "Tia Dalma got de blessing of de goddess of de wata, Tia bring him soul back from de land of de dead, an' make him captain for you." She had smiled devilishly at them. "Don' be tinkin' it be so easy to be gettin' Jack back, though." Grabbing a handful of dust, she sprinkled it over the strange carvings on her table, and passed her hand over it. "He be far from reach now, deep in her realm."

"Her?" Gibbs had asked nervously.

Tia Dalma nodded slowly. "No doubt you be knowin' de story of Calypso, yes?" All but Elizabeth and Will had paled at the mention of that name.

Pintel was the first to speak. "Y-You don't REALLY mean the goddess of th' sea, do ya?"

She just smiled again. "Ah so ya DO know 'er? " Tia leaned in. "Dey say she be de one dat all dead sailors go to when dey die. No man can look at 'er widout lovin' 'er." She leaned back, a blue-stained smile on her lips. "For what sailor can NOT love an' serve de sea?"

Will sighed. All that had happened made his head hurt, especially sailing under the man who had almost slit his throat nearly a year ago. Securing the main line on the mizzenmast, he turned his attention to the rest of the crew. They seemed to work extra hard these days, no doubt anxious to get their beloved Jack back. They all worked so fast now…It was hard for a very distracted Scotsman to keep up, especially with a slave driver of a captain over his head. On top of everything else, there was the knowledge that his father was a captive, and that his one chance to save him had slipped through his fingers (He hadn't a CLUE where the heart was now. Last he saw of it, Jack had apparently taken it out of the chest). Another shout from Barbossa sounded through the relatively still air, and Will frowned. Apparently, another ship had been spotted….

"She's flyin' no colors, captain!" Marty called down from the crow's nest worriedly. One thought came readily to mind: The Flying Dutchman.

Barbossa didn't flinch. "To yer stations, lads! If she be the Flyin' Dutchman, then Davy Jones will not have us without a fight!" Picking up a spyglass, Will saw the ship perfectly: It was not the Flying Dutchman at all, merely a fishing vessel with no colors to fly (more than likely, it was a privately owned business operation). Something seemed amiss, however….

"Captain….", said Will nervously. "There's no one aboard."

Barbossa turned to Will, scowling. "Oh no?" Taking the spyglass, he looked for himself. "By the powers…. it's deserted." Barbossa looked at Will. "Something must've happened to the crew. Mr. Turner, pull the ship hard to starboard and get us alongside that ship…

"I want a better look…"

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"My GOD."

The sight that lay in front of them was not pretty at all: what crew that had been there had been, apparently, pecked to death by some sort of giant bird. Bits of flesh and feathers were scattered everywhere, the blood long since dried up. Only Gibbs seemed to find his voice. "Whoever they were, they were heavily armed." He gestured towards the guns, now spent and cold on the deck. "Mark me words, something unnatural did these poor souls in."

Barbossa tipped his hat respectfully to the deceased, then turned to the crew. "Take whatever is still usable and bring it back to the Revenge. We don't want to be lingering here for very long, not with whatever killed them still out there." As the others grabbed the guns and whatever provisions were left, Will headed for the captain's quarters, searching for clues to who the men had been. Amid the mess that lay thick on the floor, no doubt the work of the monstrous bird, he found a few things: record books, several signed and addressed envelopes, and a wooden box full of documents, all bearing the seal of the East India company. So they HAD been under British rule. Will flipped idly through the documents, most of them pretty standard for such an operation, but one letter caught his eye. It was a darker color of parchment than the rest of the letters, with a dark red seal that held the image of a Chinese symbol that Will couldn't decipher. Opening it carefully, Will started to read it. The handwriting was smooth and flowing, though the English was poor, and it seemed to be about an alliance between two fleets for a purpose unstated, signed by a certain Captain Sao Feng of the southern China Sea. Most peculiar of all was that it was addressed to none other than Lord Beckett. Will looked the letter over again, before taking it and leaving the ship with the others. He would show it to Elizabeth later…

No one onboard the Revenge looked back as they sailed away from the desolate ship. Bad luck, Gibbs had said. Bad luck to look back at the floating tomb of sailors long dead. Usually, Will wouldn't pay any heed to Gibbs's superstitious ramblings, but the sight aboard that ship had made everyone uneasy. What had attacked them?

What other monsters lurked upon the face of the deep?

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A/N: well, that's the first real chapter. Hope you like it! If you have any suggestions, just let me know, alright?


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Well, so the REAL title of the third one is "At World's End". SO sue me. I saw something on Wikipedia that said Calypso's Fury, so there.

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Samuel Sparrow hated sailing.

He hated the smell of the ocean, the unsteadiness of the ship (he never could find his sea legs…), and the untold dangers that lay JUST underneath the surface, waiting to reach out and grab him, as he KNEW they would. He sighed and turned away from the railing just in time to see his son climb nimbly up the mast after one of the cabin boys. Sam shook his head. What was he going to do about Jack? The boy couldn't take his eyes off the open ocean, and having him so far out to sea was almost too much for a curious seven year old. He may even try to take command of the helm if no one watched him.

Fortunately, someone WAS.

"'EY! Get down from there, you rascal, or I'll have yer hide!" Gibbs was nearing on 19 years of age, a stout sailor in his own right and very comfortable on a ship, but for some reason he could never catch up to Master Samuel's son. Jack just looked down from the rigging and laughed gaily, swinging from one mast to the next, and driving Samuel insane.

"JACK! Get down right now, or I won't take you to see her."

Jack let out a small cry, and swung down to the deck. Samuel rubbed his temples. The boy was more monkey than human sometimes…Jack looked down at the deck sullenly. "You…. didn't REALLY mean that you weren't taking me, did you?" He pouted. "I really want to meet your friend, father."

Samuel patted his son's head. "And I'm sure Tia Dalma wants to meet you too, Jack." He put on his best "stern" face. "But, no more jumping off the mast, alright?" Jack nodded enthusiastically, and ran off after the cabin boy again. Samuel shook his head in amusement. Jack…. He'd been a handful since the day he found the lad, washed up on the shore with nothing but a tattered blanket. It seemed the harder he tried to reign Jack in, the harder he struggled to get free, running off to splash and play on the shore. Samuel knew that Jack's heart would lead him to the ocean but more than anything, he wanted to know his son's future.

Tia Dalma would provide that….

As the ship drew nearer to the secluded inlet, an uneasy feeling fell over the crew. Young Gibbs leaned over to Samuel and whispered, "You're not REALLY takin' the boy ashore THERE, are you?"

"Indeed I am." Samuel just smiled. "Don't worry, boy. Tia Dalma and I are in good standing with one another. She won't allow anything to happen to us."

Jack was more than pleased to be at the front of the longboat, gazing out into the jungle of untamed Jamaica. "It's so…. WILD, father." His dark eyes glimmered. "Wild and free…" He turned to Samuel, a strange smile on his face. "It's beautiful."

"Ah, I'm not as fond of it as you are, I'm afraid." Samuel glanced nervously around. The air hung thick around them, clinging to their shirts and adding to the foreboding feel of the dark, dank jungle around him. He shuddered and moved closer to Jack. "I tend to prefer civilization, son." Jack just smiled and ran his fingers through the murky water.

The boat ride up the river was a slow one, and by the time they reached the wooden hut, Samuel had had his fill of the jungle. He carefully stepped out of the boat and onto the deck, then helped Jack across. Turning to Gibbs, he whispered, "Mind the boat. You don't know what may be out there." Gibbs shifted uneasily at that, but nodded and put a bit more gunpowder in his gun. Samuel looked up at the hut. It was exactly as he remembered it, dark, dreary and unnatural. If it weren't for her services, he wouldn't have made the trip at all. He climbed the stairs, Jack firmly in tow, and knocked carefully on the rotting doorframe. A sharp creak escaped the rusty hinges, and the door swung open.

The room was full of all sorts of exotic and mystical-looking artifacts, and smelled vaguely of sandalwood and swamp. Candles burned dimly all around, casting long and strange shadows on the walls, and the long hiss of a yellow anaconda echoed through the stillness. Samuel gulped uneasily. He turned to Jack. "Stay here while I fetch her, alright?" He walked in, and looked around. It was even more disturbing than last time he was here…."Tia Dalma?", he called out.

A small crash erupted from the room beyond a curtain at the far right side of the house, and a small woman, eyes yellowed and teeth stained blue, entered with a grin. "Samuel Sparrow!" She flung her arms around his neck. "'Ow long has it been, ya spineless jellyfish?" She poked his ribs playfully. "Still afraid of de wata, I guess. What brings ya back to your Tia, eh?"

Samuel smiled nervously at her. "Remember how you promised to give my first born a blessing?"

Her eyes widened. "Samuel, you be a FADA?" Laughing gaily, she held her heart. "Oh, be still chile, where be de boy?" Samuel gave her a confused look, and she just laughed again. "O' COURSE I be knowin' him a boy, Sammy. Tia Dalma know almost everyting." She sat down at her table and gestured to the door. "Let him in."

Samuel nodded and opened the door again, gesturing for Jack to enter. "Tia Dalma, this is my son, Jack."

When Jack stepped through the door, Tia's eyes flew wide open in shock and panic. She was so surprised that she backed right into the table and knocked over a few of her jewelry and crab claws. She stared at the boy, arms held to her chest in a sign of reverence, and looked wildly to Samuel. "God in heaven, where did you FIND that!" She practically screamed out the words, rocking back and forth to calm herself down. Samuel looked at Jack, confused, then back at Tia Dalma, who gave him a look of total amazement. "What… Ya don know who this BE! Oh Samuel, it a miracle you made it here in one piece!" She grabbed Jack and started for the door.

Samuel intervened, totally perplexed (and now, rather frightened). "Wait, where are you taking him?"

"To de sea…" she said in a hushed voice. She looked up at him, eyes streaming with tears. "He belongs to de sea…"

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The ships of the royal navy bobbled lightly in the steadily roughening waters, but James Norrington stood perfectly still at the bow, staring out into the ocean, the heart beating delicately in his hands. So much had changed over the past few weeks…. He had been restored to his rightful place as Commodore in the king's royal navy; given control over a fleet of East India Trading company ships, and the power to control the most fearsome force in the ocean lay shuddering in his hands. As it was, he was the most powerful person in the whole of the ocean, taking orders from no one.

Well, no one but Cutler Beckett.

James winced. Cutler --- well, LORD Beckett's orders had been perfectly clear, right down to the letter. He was to search and destroy every pirate ship he encountered, stopping at every port he saw and demand for all able-bodied men to join his fleet, and if anyone resisted, he was to open fire on the port. It was more than disturbing to the commodore. He was NOT a murderer by nature, not unless he HAD to kill someone in battle, and the idea of destroying an entire port village did not sit well with him. Was it worth it, to regain his title and his power but become a murderer as well? He had given the heart to Beckett in hopes of regaining some semblance of honor, but more than ever, he felt hopeless and dishonorable.

"Calypso is angry tonight."

The dead, soulless voice jarred James from his thoughts, and he turned around. Davy Jones stood behind him, eyes downcast, and a look of absolute sadness in those watery orbs. Since the capture of his heart, Davy Jones had been taken captive aboard his own ship, and would often be summoned to the British ship _Commander_ to be given orders. TERRIBLE orders, thought Norrington grimly.

And he was the one to give them.

"So it would seem, Mr. Jones." He struggled to keep that starched, unfeeling sound to his voice. He could not look the monstrous captain in the eye, no matter how he tried. Instead, he looked to the sea again. "You know your orders as well as I. We take the port of Galveston tomorrow night. They refused all manpower to Lord Beckett." There would be children in that port…. women as well. Fathers, mothers, families….

Davy Jones just looked on ahead. "And if I refuse?" There was something defiant about the giant squid that scared the commodore greatly, but he just scowled.

"You know the penalty." He took out a small dagger and held it dangerously close to the still-beating heart. Jones's eyes widened and the captain reached for the heart, but James held it just out of reach. "Will you obey?", he said fiercely.

"Yes, yes, just don't hurt it!" James smiled at this outburst and carefully wrapped the heart up again. Davy sighed dejectedly, then gave Norrington a dark look. "You know…the longer you hold me captive, the angrier Calypso becomes." He smiled cruelly (if you could call it a smile. On Jones's fearsome features, it came out as more of a sneer). "She'll come for you, and destroy every ship in this fleet." He nodded out towards the oncoming storm. "She's coming right now."

James just smiled in return. "Perfect."


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Chapter four! Thanks everyone for the reviews so far. Glad you like it. And don't worry; the Commodore isn't going to die…yet.

BUT YOU DIDN'T SEE THAT!

Oh, and the beginning of this chapter is VERY Davy Jones-centric, so…if ya don't like it, don't read. But who in their right mind could hate Davy?

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The Flying Dutchman.

He was there the day she was finished, gleaming easily in the noonday sun, fresh linen and shining wood. The most beautiful ship in the world, he'd called it, and she was his first love.

Calypso.

The goddess of the sea, sun-kissed hair and eyes that burned. She had descended like a whirlwind, and swept him away fast and furiously. No woman before, and no woman since, had ever been as glorious as one night with a goddess, and she had been his second love.

Both were gone now.

Calypso had destroyed everything in her fury, and left him with nothing but a chest of letters and a broken heart. He lost the woman he loved, the son he'd fathered, and his own mortality in one fell swoop. Then that horrible Beckett spirited away his most precious possession, and not even the Dutchman belonged to him anymore.

Davy Jones was, indeed, a lost soul.

Sighing, he leaned over the edge of his once-proud vessel and cried openly. Many of his doomed crew looked at him in quasi-pity, shaking their heads. Whatever upset the captain would upset all of them sooner or later. Davy stared out over the ocean…HER ocean…and spotted the quiet, unsuspecting port of Galveston, lamps lit for the night. The Commodore had issues its death order, and The Dutchman had to comply. So it would be, port after port, till the blood of innocents would cover the ocean and scream to the gods against him. Davy shuddered violently at the thought, and called to his first mate. "Find Bootstrap Bill and bring him to me." He closed his eyes sorrowfully.

" I need to see him…."

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The brig, for all intents and purposes, really was no worse than the rest of the Dutchman, in Bootstrap's opinion. It all smelled the same, anyway; dank, and reeking of fish. After almost nine years of service, he thought he'd be used to it by now. Actually, Bill's mind was FAR away from the cold dampness of the brig on Davy Jones's infernal ship.

It was with William

He knew, deep in his bones, that his son had survived his encounters with the Kraken. Where Will was now, he hadn't a clue, but Bill wished fiercely that the sea would carry his son safely to wherever he was headed. The cheers that he heard as the Pearl was destroyed certainly weighed him down as well, and he had nearly wept when he heard that Jack Sparrow had been dragged down as well. Jack had been his only friend aboard that ship, and he never did get to say how truly sorry he was…

A knock on the bars of his cage got him to look up sullenly, right into the face of Clacker, the shark-headed first mate. He stared at Bill with his one human eye sadly. "Cap'n wants to see you, Bootstrap", he said as he undid the padlock and swung the heavy iron door to one side. Bill stood wearily and made his way towards the stairs. Clacker followed close behind, and said in a hushed voice, "Bill, th' captain ain't been himself lately. Don't rightly know what's wrong, but it's got to be his heart." Was it Bill's imagination, or was the first mate actually WORRIED for their captain? He looked at Davy Jones, leaning sullenly over the edge of the ship, and walked to his side.

"You wanted to see me, sir?"

Davy didn't look up or seem to acknowledge, just stared straight ahead. "Bootstrap Bill…", he said, voice as distant and hollow as a far-away cave, "You are released from your debt."

He couldn't believe his ears. "Wh-What did you say?"

Davy turned slightly and looked at him. "You are released. Feel free to leave at your convenience." He smiled sadly. "Go…warn the ports and ships of Beckett's plan. Innocents will DIE from this, and I refuse to be the one to do it." He turned back to the ocean. Bill walked cautiously to the captain's side and laid a hand on his gnarled and barnacle-covered shoulder.

"Captain…. what will happen to you?"

Jones just shook his head. "I will die…. And let me tell you, it can't happen soon enough." Then suddenly, he laughed. A mirthless, empty laugh. "Ah, Bill… I was once not too different from yourself…" Jones smiled at him and shook his head. "Go…. Your son will need ye." Bill nodded and walked quickly to the longboats. Davy looked after him, and sighed. "Better hurry, Bootstrap me boy…."

"I know the pain of losing a son…."

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The sea was still, as flat and clear as a sheet of glass.

The sun was shining, and a gentle, welcome breeze blew from the west. Truly, a wonderful day for sailing.

Naturally, everyone was suspicious.

"T'ain't natural…", mumbled Gibbs, as he took a swig of gin (rum had been all but banned from the ship since Jack's death). "Th' sea was furious no more than an hour ago. It be Calypso's doing, mark me words, and it bodes ill for all of us."

Barbossa nodded gravely. "Aye, she be hiding somethin' from us, watery wench." He looked to the crow's nest. "Mr. Turner! Any sign or warning?"

Will had been up in the crow's nest since they found the floating tomb, and had increasingly found an appreciation for swabbing the deck. There had been nothing to see in either direction for DAYS now, and he was starting to get irritated. "It's the same as it was yesterday and the day before, and I'm pretty sure that tomorrow will look surprisingly like this one!", he barked down miserably, and tried and failed AGAIN to stretch his legs. Standing was an option, but he was tired of that as well. Finally, he swung down to the deck and marched up to Barbossa. "Admit it, SIR," he pushed past him fiercely. "You have NO idea where you're going, and are leading us in circles."

Barbossa drew his sword and held it to Will's neck. "Care to repeat such a dangerous accusation, boy?" Will had to hand it to Barbossa; he did know how to keep himself calm. Will just shook his head, and pushed the sword away. The captain grinned. "Good. Now as it so happens, I DO know where we're going, and where we are." Pointing to northeast, he continued, "We are nearing the East China Sea, and closing fast on the Nessau port."

Elizabeth, who had been repairing one of the sails, looked up. "N-Nessau port?" She looked at Will, and he nodded at her. It was the same port that Jack Sparrow had sacked without losing a single shot, and it was rumored that the captain of the Nessau fleet had sworn revenge on the sly pirate. She paled and looked down again.

Will sighed. "Are we stopping in Nessau, Barbossa?" The captain just nodded, and started barking orders to the crew to make ready to land. Will sighed, and caressed Elizabeth's cheek. "Feeling better?"

She nodded slightly. "A----A little, I guess…." Sighing, she smiled at him. "Thank you, Will."

"For what?"

"For not hating me." Tears welled in her emerald eyes. "I know you saw me k-k—"

"Kiss him." A sharp pain shot through Will's heart, but he ignored it for the moment and gave her a reassuring smile. She laid her head on his shoulder and wept again. All he could do was just pat her gently and wait for it to stop. At first, he had hated her for what she'd done, then hated Jack, then hated himself for not being there enough for Elizabeth. Now, nothing was left but a dull ache in his chest, and he was through mourning love lost. If she didn't love him anymore, he would be all right with whomever she chose, even if it WAS Jack….

"SHIPS SPOTTED!"

Will snapped his head up, and they looked at each other before standing up. Marty, who had reclaimed the crow's nest, was pointing frantically at an approaching fleet of ships, dark and menacing, and the men cowered. Barbossa took one look, and shouted, "ALL HANDS ON DECK! Pull the ship hard to starboard and try to outrun them!" He pulled Will to one side. "Mr. Turner, get the lass below deck. The Chinese are notorious for spiriting away pretty girls to sell as slaves." Will nodded frantically and grabbed Elizabeth's hand just as the first cannon ball struck the water, rocking the boat violently and sending Will crashing to the ground. Shakily, he stood up and reached for Elizabeth.

She wasn't there.

"Elizabeth!" Will looked around, but she was nowhere to be found. Another cannon blast knocked him over again, and a sharp pain shot through his leg. A scrap of metal had pierced right through it, and he cried out in pain. Gibbs, who was handing out guns, rushed over to his side.

"Will! Get below deck NOW!" Gibbs hoisted him up and helped him over to the stair well, and lowered him down.

"What about Elizabeth!" Will started to protest, but his leg reminded him that he couldn't move. He grasped it, and groaned.

Gibbs just shook his head. "We'll try and find her, but you stay here." With that, he closed the hatch, leaving Will in the dark.

Meanwhile, further out to sea, Captain Sao Feng was hoisting an unconscious woman out of the sea and onto his deck. His crew gasped and bowed in reverence, and Feng himself took off his helmet in respect. He pointed to his first mate. "Wui! Take her to my cabin and lay her in my bed."

"She is the goddess of the sea…."

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A/N: woo! That was fun. Next chapter soon!


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